Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 10, No. 57, July, 1862 by Various

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should have the preference for all dangerous and honorable service inthe order of their seniority, with a distinction in favor of thosewhose infirmities might render their lives less worth the keeping.Methinks there would be no more Bull Runs; a warrior with gout in histoe, or rheumatism in his joints, or with one foot in the grave, wouldmake a sorry fugitive!

On this admirable system, the productive part of the population wouldbe undisturbed even by the bloodiest war; and, best of all, thosethousands upon thousands of our Northern girls, whose proper mates willperish in camp-hospitals or on Southern battle-fields, would avoidtheir doom of forlorn old-maidenhood. But, no doubt, the plan will bepooh-poohed down by the War Department; though it could scarcely bemore disastrous than the one on which we began the war, when a youngarmy was struck with paralysis through the age of its commander.

The waters around Fortress Monroe were thronged with a gallant array ofships of war and transports, wearing the Union flag,--"Old Glory," as Ihear it called in these days. A little withdrawn from our nationalfleet lay two French frigates, and, in another direction, an Englishsloop, under that banner which always makes itself visible, like a redportent in the air, wherever there is strife. In pursuance of ourofficial duty, (which had no ascertainable limits,) we went on boardthe flag-ship, and were shown over every part of her, and down into herdepths, inspecting her gallant crew, her powerful armament, her mightyengines, and her furnaces, where the fires are always kept burning, aswell at midnight as at noon, so that it would require only five minutesto put the vessel under full steam. This vigilance has been feltnecessary ever since the Merrimack made that terrible dash fromNorfolk. Splendid as she is, however, and provided with all but thevery latest improvements in naval armament, the Minnesota belongs to aclass of vessels that will be built no more, nor ever fight anotherbattle,--being as much a thing of the past as any of the ships of QueenElizabeth's time, which grappled with the galleons of the SpanishArmada.

On her quarter-deck, an elderly flag-officer was pacing to and fro,with a self-conscious dignity to which a touch of the gout orrheumatism perhaps contributed a little additional stiffness. He seemedto be a gallant gentleman, but of the old, slow, and pompous school ofnaval worthies, who have grown up amid rules, forms, and etiquettewhich were adopted full-blown from the British navy into ours, and aresomewhat too cumbrous for the quick spirit of to-day. This order ofnautical heroes will probably go down, along with the ships in whichthey fought valorously and strutted most intolerably. How can anadmiral condescend to go to sea in an iron pot? What space andelbow-room can be found for quarter-deck dignity in the cramped lookoutof the Monitor, or even in the twenty-feet diameter of her cheese-box?All the pomp and splendor of naval warfare are gone by. Henceforththere must come up a race of enginemen and smoke-blackened cannoneers,who will hammer away at their enemies under the direction of a singlepair of eyes; and even heroism--so deadly a gripe is Science laying onour noble possibilities--will become a quality of very minorimportance, when its possessor cannot break through the iron crust ofhis own armament and give the world a glimpse of it.

At no great distance from the Minnesota lay the strangest-lookingcraft I ever saw. It was a platform of iron, so nearly on a level withthe water that the swash of the waves broke over it, under the impulseof a very moderate breeze; and on this platform was raised a circularstructure, likewise of iron, and rather broad and capacious, but of nogreat height. It could not be called a vessel at all; it was amachine,--and I have seen one of somewhat similar appearance employedin cleaning out the docks; or, for lack of a better similitude, itlooked like a gigantic rat-trap. It was ugly, questionable, suspicious,evidently mischievous,--nay, I will allow myself to call it devilish;for this was the new war-fiend, destined, along with others of thesame breed, to annihilate whole navies and batter down old supremacies.The wooden walls of Old England cease to exist, and a whole history ofnaval renown reaches its period, now that the Monitor comes smokinginto view; while the billows dash over what seems her deck, and stormsbury even her turret in green water, as she burrows and snorts along,oftener under the surface than above. The singularity of the object hasbetrayed me into a more ambitious vein of description than I oftenindulge; and, after all, I might as well have contented myself withsimply saying that she looked very queer.

Going on board, we were surprised at the extent and convenience of herinterior accommodations. There is a spacious ward-room, nine or tenfeet in height, besides a private cabin for the commander, andsleeping accommodations on an ample scale; the whole well lighted andventilated, though beneath the surface of the water. Forward, or aft,(for it is impossible to tell stem from stern,) the crew are relativelyquite as well provided for as the officers. It was like finding apalace, with all its conveniences, under the sea. The inaccessibility,the apparent impregnability, of this submerged iron fortress are mostsatisfactory; the officers and crew get down through a little hole inthe deck, hermetically seal themselves, and go below; and until theysee fit to reappear, there would seem to be no power given to manwhereby they can be brought to light. A storm of cannon-shot damagesthem no more than a handful of dried peas. We saw the shot-marks madeby the great artillery of the Merrimack on the outer casing of the irontower; they were about the breadth and depth of shallow saucers, almostimperceptible dents, with no corresponding bulge on the interiorsurface. In fact, the thing looked altogether too safe; though it maynot prove quite an agreeable predicament to be thus boxed up inimpenetrable iron, with the possibility, one would imagine, of beingsent to the bottom of the sea, and, even there, not drowned, butstifled. Nothing, however, can exceed the confidence of the officers inthis new craft. It was pleasant to see their benign exultation in herpowers of mischief, and the delight with which they exhibited thecircumvolutory movement of the tower, the quick thrusting forth of theimmense guns to deliver their ponderous missiles, and then theimmediate recoil, and the security behind the closed port-holes. Yeteven this will not long be the last and most terrible improvement inthe science of war. Already we hear of vessels the armament of which isto act entirely beneath the surface of the water; so that, with noother external symptoms than a great bubbling and foaming, and gush ofsmoke, and belch of smothered thunder out of the yeasty waves, thereshall be a deadly fight going on below,--and, by-and-by, a suckingwhirlpool, as one of the ships goes down.

The Monitor was certainly an object of great interest; but on our wayto Newport News, whither we next went, we saw a spectacle thataffected us with far profounder emotion. It was the sight of the fewsticks that are left of the frigate Congress, stranded near theshore,--and still more, the masts of the Cumberland rising midway outof the water, with a tattered rag of a pennant fluttering from one ofthem. The invisible hull of the latter ship seems to be careened over,so that the three masts stand slantwise; the rigging looks quiteunimpaired, except that a few ropes dangle loosely from the yards. Theflag (which never was struck, thank Heaven!) is entirely hidden underthe waters of the bay, but is still doubtless waving in its old place,although it floats to and fro with the swell and reflux of the tide,instead of rustling on the breeze. A remnant of the dead crew still manthe sunken ship, and sometimes a drowned body floats up to the surface.

That was a noble fight. When was ever a better word spoken than that ofCommodore Smith, the father of the commander of the Congress, when heheard that his son's ship was surrendered? "Then Joe's dead!" said he;and so it proved. Nor can any warrior be more certain of enduringrenown than the gallant Morris, who fought so well the final battle ofthe old system of naval warfare, and won glory for his country andhimself out of inevitable disaster and defeat. That last gun from theCumberland, when her deck was half submerged, sounded the requiem ofmany sinking ships. Then went down all the navies of Europe, and ourown, Old Ironsides and all, and Trafalgar and a thousand other fightsbecame only a memory, never to be acted over again; and thus our bravecountrymen come last in the long procession of heroic sailors thatincludes Blake and Nelson, and so many mariners of England, and othermariners as brave as they, whose renown is our native inheritance.There will be other battles, but no more such tests of seamanship andmanhood as the battles of the past; and, moreover, the Millennium iscertainly approaching, because human strife is to be transferred fromthe heart and personality of man into cunning contrivances ofmachinery, which by-and-by will fight out our wars with only the clankand smash of iron, strewing the field with broken engines, but damagingnobody's little finger except by accident. Such is obviously thetendency of modern improvement. But, in the mean while, so long asmanhood retains any part of its pristine value, no country can affordto let gallantry like that of Morris and his crew, any more than thatof the brave Worden, pass unhonored and unrewarded. If the Governmentdo nothing, let the people take the matter into their own hands, andcities give him swords, gold boxes, festivals of triumph, and, if heneeds it, heaps of gold. Let poets brood upon the theme, and makethemselves sensible how much of the past and future is contained withinits compass, till its spirit shall flash forth in the lightning of asong!

From these various excursions, and a good many others, (including oneto Manassas,) we gained a pretty lively idea of what was going on;but, after all, if compelled to pass a rainy day in the hall andparlors of Willard's Hotel, it proved about as profitably spent as ifwe had floundered through miles of Virginia mud, in quest ofinteresting matter. This hotel, in fact, may be much more justlycalled the centre of Washington and the Union than either the Capitol,the White House, or the State Department. Everybody may be seen there.It is the meeting-place of the true representatives of thecountry,--not such as are chosen blindly and amiss by electors who takea folded ballot from the hand of a local politician, and thrust it intothe ballot-box unread, but men who gravitate or are attracted hitherby real business, or a native impulse to breathe the intensestatmosphere of the nation's life, or a genuine anxiety to see how thislife-and-death struggle is going to deal with us. Nor these only, butall manner of loafers. Never, in any other spot, was there such amiscellany of people. You exchange nods with governors of sovereignStates; you elbow illustrious men, and tread on the toes of generals;you hear statesmen and orators speaking in their familiar tones. Youare mixed up with office-seekers, wire-pullers, inventors, artists,poets, prosers, (including editors, army-correspondents,_attaches_ of foreign journals, and long-winded talkers,) clerks,diplomatists, mail-contractors, railway-directors, until your ownidentity is lost among them. Occasionally you talk with a man whom youhave never before heard of, and are struck by the brightness of athought, and fancy that there is more wisdom hidden among the obscurethan is anywhere revealed among the famous. You adopt the universalhabit of the place, and call for a mint-julep, a whiskey-skin, agin-cocktail, a brandy-smash, or a glass of pure Old Rye; for theconviviality of Washington sets in at an early hour, and, so far as Ihad an opportunity of observing, never terminates at any hour, and allthese drinks are continually in request by almost all these people. Aconstant atmosphere of cigar-smoke, too, envelopes the motley crowd,and forms a sympathetic medium, in which men meet more closely and talkmore frankly than in any other kind of air. If legislators would smokein session, they might speak truer words, and fewer of them, and bringabout more valuable results.

It is curious to observe what antiquated figures and costumessometimes make their appearance at Willard's. You meet elderly men withfrilled shirt-fronts, for example, the fashion of which adornmentpassed away from among the people of this world half a century ago. Itis as if one of Stuart's portraits were walking abroad. I see no way ofaccounting for this, except that the trouble of the times, the impietyof traitors, and the peril of our sacred Union and Constitution havedisturbed, in their honored graves, some of the venerable fathers ofthe country, and summoned them forth to protest against the meditatedand half-accomplished sacrilege. If it be so, their wonted fires arenot altogether extinguished in their ashes,--in their throats, I mightrather say;--for I beheld one of these excellent old men quaffing sucha horn of Bourbon whiskey as a toper of the present century would beloath to venture upon. But, really, one would be glad to know wherethese strange figures come from. It shows, at any rate, how manyremote, decaying villages and country-neighborhoods of the North, andforest-nooks of the West, and old mansion-houses in cities, are shakenby the tremor of our native soil, so that men long hidden in retirementput on the garments of their youth and hurry out to inquire what is thematter. The old men whom we see here have generally more marked facesthan the young ones, and naturally enough; since it must be anextraordinary vigor and renewability of life that can overcome therusty sloth of age, and keep the senior flexible enough to take aninterest in new things; whereas hundreds of commonplace young men comehither to stare with eyes of vacant wonder, and with vague hopes offinding out what they are fit for. And this war (we may say so much inits favor) has been the means of discovering that important secret tonot a few.

We saw at Willard's many who had thus found out for themselves, that,when Nature gives a young man no other utilizable faculty, she must beunderstood as intending him for a soldier. The bulk of the army hadmoved out of Washington before we reached the city; yet it seemed tome that at least two-thirds of the guests and idlers at the hotel woreone or another token of the military profession. Many of them, nodoubt, were self-commissioned officers, and had put on the buttons andthe shoulder-straps, and booted themselves to the knees, merelybecause captain, in these days, is so good a travelling-name. Themajority, however, had been duly appointed by the President, but mightbe none the better warriors for that. It was pleasant, occasionally,to distinguish a grizzly veteran among this crowd of carpet-knights,--the trained soldier of a lifetime, long ago from West Point,who had spent his prime upon the frontier, and very likely couldshow an Indian bullet-mark on his breast,--if such decorations, won inan obscure warfare, were worth the showing now.

The question often occurred to me,--and, to say the truth, it added anindefinable piquancy to the scene,--what proportion of all thesepeople, whether soldiers or civilians, were true at heart to the Union,and what part were tainted, more or less, with treasonable sympathiesand wishes, even if such had never blossomed into purpose. Traitorsthere were among them,--no doubt of that,--civil servants of thepublic, very reputable persons, who yet deserved to dangle from a cord;or men who buttoned military coats over their breasts, hiding periloussecrets there, which might bring the gallant officer to standpale-faced before a file of musketeers, with his open grave behind him.But, without insisting upon such picturesque criminality and punishmentas this, an observer, who kept both his eyes and heart open, would findit by no means difficult to discern that many residents and visitors ofWashington so far sided with the South as to desire nothing more norbetter than to see everything reestablished on a little worse than itsformer basis. If the cabinet of Richmond were transferred to theFederal city, and the North awfully snubbed, at least, and driven backwithin its old political limits, they would deem it a happy day. It isno wonder, and, if we look at the matter generously, no unpardonablecrime. Very excellent people hereabouts remember the many dynasties inwhich the Southern character has been predominant, and contrast thegenial courtesy, the warm and graceful freedom of that region, withwhat they call (though I utterly disagree with them) the frigidity ofour Northern manners, and the Western plainness of the President. Theyhave a conscientious, though mistaken belief, that the South wasdriven out of the Union by intolerable wrong on our part, and that weare responsible for having compelled true patriots to love only halftheir country instead of the whole, and brave soldiers to draw theirswords against the Constitution which they would once have diedfor,--to draw them, too, with a bitterness of animosity which is theonly symptom of brotherhood (since brothers hate each other best) thatany longer exists. They whisper these things with tears in their eyes,and shake their heads, and stoop their poor old shoulders, at thetidings of another and another Northern victory, which, in theiropinion, puts farther off the remote, the already impossible chance ofa reunion.

I am sorry for them, though it is by no means a sorrow without hope.Since the matter has gone so far, there seems to be no way but to go onwinning victories, and establishing peace and a truer union in anothergeneration, at the expense, probably, of greater trouble, in thepresent one, than any other people ever voluntarily suffered. We woothe South "as the Lion wooes his bride"; it is a rough courtship, butperhaps love and a quiet household may come of it at last. Or, if westop short of that blessed consummation, heaven was heaven still, asMilton sings, after Lucifer and a third part of the angels had secededfrom its golden palaces,--and perhaps all the more heavenly, becauseso many gloomy brows, and soured, vindictive hearts, had gone to plotineffectual schemes of mischief elsewhere. [Footnote: We regret theinnuendo in the concluding sentence. The war can never be allowed toterminate, except in the complete triumph of Northern principles. Wehold the event in our own hands, and may choose whether to terminate itby the methods already so successfully used, or by other means equallywithin our control, and calculated to be still more speedilyefficacious. In truth, the work is already done.

We should be sorry to cast a doubt on the Peaceable Man's loyalty, buthe will allow us to say that we consider him premature in his kindlyfeelings towards traitors and sympathizers with treason. As the authorhimself says of John Brown, (and, so applied, we thought it anatrociously cold-blooded _dictum_,) "any common-sensible manwould feel an intellectual satisfaction in seeing them hanged, were itonly for their preposterous miscalculation of possibilities." Thereare some degrees of absurdity that put Reason herself into a rage, andaffect us like an intolerable crime,--which this Rebellion is, intothe bargain.]

THE MINUTE-GUNS.

I stood within the little cove,Full of the morning's life and hope,While heavily the eager wavesCharged thundering up the rocky slope.

The splendid breakers! how they rushed,All emerald green and flashing white,Tumultuous in the morning sun,With cheer, and sparkle, and delight!

And freshly blew the fragrant wind,The wild sea-wind, across their tops,And caught the spray and flung it far,In sweeping showers of glittering drops.

Within the cove all flashed and foamed,With many a fleeting rainbow hue;Without, gleamed, bright against the sky,A tender, wavering line of blue,

Where tossed the distant waves, and farShone silver-white a quiet sail,And overhead the soaring gullsWith graceful pinions stemmed the gale.

And all my pulses thrilled with joy,Watching the wind's and water's strife,--With sudden rapture,--and I cried,"Oh, sweet is Life! Thank God for Life!"

Sailed any cloud across the sky,Marring this glory of the sun's?Over the sea, from distant forts,There came the boom of minute-guns!

War-tidings! Many a brave soul fled,And many a heart the message stuns!--I saw no more the joyous waves,I only heard the minute-guns.

ORIGINALITY.

A great contemporary writer, so I am told, regards originality as muchrarer than is commonly supposed. But, on the contrary, is it not farmore frequent than is commonly supposed? For one should not identifyoriginality with mere primacy of conception or utterance, as if athought could be original but once. In truth, it may be so thousands ormillions of times; nay, from the beginning to the end of man's timesupon the earth, the same thoughts may continue rising from the samefountains in his spirit. Of the central or stem thoughts ofconsciousness, of the imperial presiding imaginations, this is actuallytrue. Ceaseless re-origination is the method of Nature. This alonekeeps history alive. For if every Mohammedan were but a passiveappendage to the dead Mohammed, if every disciple were but a copy inplaster of his teacher, and if history were accordingly living andoriginal only in such degree as it is an unprecedented invention, thelaws of decay should at once be made welcome to the world.

The fact is otherwise. As new growths upon the oldest cedar or baobabdo not merely spin themselves out of the wood already formed,--as theythrive and constitute themselves only by original conversation withsun, earth, and air,--that is, in the same way with any seed orsapling,--so generations of Moslems, Parsees, or Calvinists, whileobeying the structural law of their system, yet quaff from the mysticalfountains of pure Life the sustenance by which they live. Merely outof itself the tree can give nothing,--literally, nothing. True, if cutdown, it may, under favorable circumstances, continue for a time tofeed the growing shoots out of its own decay. Yet not even at the costof decay and speedy exhaustion could the old trunk accomplish thislittle, but for the draft made upon it by the new growths. It is_their_ life, it is the relationship which they assert with sunand rain and all the elements, which is foremost in bringing about eventhis result. So it is with the great old literatures, with the oldsystems of philosophy and faith. They are simply avenues, or structuralforms, through which succeeding generations of souls come intoconversation with eternal Nature, and express their original life.

Observe, again, that the tree lives only while new shoots are producedupon it. The new twigs and leaves not only procure sustenance forthemselves, but even keep the trunk itself alive: so that the chieforder of support is just opposite what it seems; and the tree livesfrom above, down,--as do men and all other creatures. So in history, itrequires a vast amount of original thought or sentiment to sustain theold structural forms. This gigantic baobab of Catholicism, for example,is kept alive by the conversion of Life into Belief, which takes placeage after age in the bosoms of women and men. The trunk was long ago inextensive decay; every wind menaces it with overthrow; but the heartsthat bud and blossom upon it yearly send down to the earth and up tothe sky such a claim for resource as surrounds the dying trunk withever new layers of supporting growth. Equally are the thought, poetry,rhetoric of by-gone times kept in significance by the perceiving, theimagining, and the sense of a flowing symbolism in Nature, which ourown time brings to them. To make Homer alive to this age,--what anexpenditure of imagination, of pure feeling and penetration does itdemand! Let the Homeric heart or genius die out of mankind, and fromthat moment the "Iliad" is but dissonance, the long melodious roll ofits echoes becomes a jarring chop of noises. What chiefly makes Homergreat is the vast ideal breadth of relationship in which he establisheshuman beings. But he in whose narrow brain is no space for highOlympus and deep Orcus,--he whose coarse fibre never felt theshudder of the world at the shaking of the ambrosial locks, nor athrill in the air when a hero fails,--what can this grand stoop of theideal upon the actual world signify to him? To what but an ethicalgenius in men can appeal for guest-rites be made by the noble"Meditations" of Marcus Antoninus, or the exquisite, and perhapsincomparable, "Christian Morals" of Sir Thomas Browne?Appreciative genius is centrally the same with productivegenius; and it is the Shakspeare in men alone that prints Shakspeareand reads him. So it is that the works of the masters are, as it were,perpetually re-written and renewed in life by the genius of mankind.

In saying that constant re-origination is the method of Nature, I donot overlook the element nor underrate the importance of Imitation.This it is that secures continuity, connection, and structural unity.By vital imitation the embryonic man assumes the features andtraits of his progenitors. After birth the infant remains in thematrix of the household; after infancy the glowing youth is held inthat of society; and processes kindred with those which bestowedlikeness to father and mother go on to assimilate him with a socialcircle or an age. Complaint is made, and by good men, of that implicitacquiescence which keeps in existence Islam, Catholicism, and the like,long after their due time has come to die; yet, abolish the law ofimitation which causes this, and the immediate disintegration ofmankind will follow. Mortar is much in the way, when we wish to takean old building to pieces and make other use of the bricks; do youtherefore advise its disuse?

But imitation would preserve nothing, did not the law of re-originationkeep it company. We are not born from our parents alone, but from theloins of eternal Nature no less. Was Orpheus the grandson of Zeus andMnemosyne,--of sovereign Unity and immortal Memory? Equally isShakspeare and every genuine bard. Could the heroes of old Greecetrace their derivation from the gods?

Little of a hero is he, even in these times of ours, who is not of thelike lineage. And indeed, one and all, we have a father and motherwhose marriage-morn is of more ancient date than our calendars, and ofwhose spousal solemnities this universe is the memorial. All life,indeed, whatsoever be its form and rank, has, along with connections ofpedigree and lateral association, one tap-root that strikes straightdown into the eternal.

Because Life is of this unsounded depth, it may well afford to repeatthe same forms forever, nor incurs thereby any danger of exhausting itssignificance and becoming stale. Vital repetition, accordingly, goeson in Nature in a way not doubtful and diffident, but frank, open,sure, as if the game were one that could not be played out. It is now avery long while that buds have burst and grass grown; yet Spring comesforward still without bashfulness, fearing no charge of havingplagiarized from her predecessors. The field blushes not for itsblades, though they are such as for immemorial times have spired fromthe sod; the boughs publish their annual book of many a verdant scrollwithout apprehension of having become commonplace at last; thebobolink pours his warble in cheery sureness of acceptance, unmindfulthat it is the same warble with which the throats of other bobolinkswere throbbing before there was a man to listen and smile; and nightafter night forever the stars, and age after age the eyes of women andmen, shine on without apology, or the least promise that this shall bepositively their last appearance. Life knows itself original always,nor a whit the less so for any repetition of its elected andsignificant forms. Youth and newness are, indeed, inseparable from it.Death alone is senile; and we become physically aged only by thepresence and foothold of this dogged intruder in our bodies. The bodyis a fortress for the possession of which Death is perpetuallycontending; only the incessant activity of Life at every foot of therampart keeps him at bay; but, with, the advance of years, theassailants gain, here and there a foothold, pressing the defendersback; and just in proportion as this defeat take a place the manbecomes _old_. But Life sets out from the same basis of mystery tobuild each new body, no matter how many myriads of such forms have beenbuilt before; and forsaking it finally, is no less young, inscrutable,enticing than before.

Now Thought, as part of the supreme flowering of Life, follows its law.It cannot be anticipated by any anticipation of its forms and results.There were hazel-brown eyes in the world before my boy was born; butthe light that shines in these eyes comes direct from the soulnevertheless. The light of true thought, in like manner, issues onlyfrom an inward sun; and shining, it carries always its perfectprivilege, its charm and sacredness. Would you have purple or yelloweyes, because the accustomed colors have been so often repeated? Black,blue, brown, gray, forever! May the angels in heaven have no other!Forever, too, and equally, the perpetual loves, thoughts, and melodiesof men! Let them come out of their own mystical, ineffable haunts,--letthem, that is, be _real_,--and we ask no more.

The question of originality is, therefore, simply one of vitality. Doesthe fruit really grow on the tree? does it indeed come by vitalprocess?--little more than this does it concern us to know. Truthsbecome cold and commonplace, not by any number of rekindlings in men'sbosoms, but by out-of-door reflections without inward kindling. Sayingis the royal son of Seeing; but there is many a pretender to thethrone; and when these supposititious people usurp, age after age, thehonors that are not theirs, the throne and government are disgraced.

Truisms are corpses of truths; and statements are to be found in everystage of approach to this final condition. Every time there is animpotency or unreality in their enunciation, they are borne a stepnearer the sepulchre. If the smirking politician, who wishes to deludeme into voting for him, bid me his bland "Good-morning," not only doeshe draw a film of eclipse over the sun, and cast a shadow on city andfield, but he throws over the salutation itself a more permanentshadow; and were the words never to reach us save from such lips, theywould, in no long time, become terms of insult or of malediction. Butso often as the sweet greeting comes from wife, child, or friend, itsproper savors are restored. A jesting editor says that "You tell atelegram" is the polite way of giving the lie; and it is quite possiblethat his witticism only anticipates a serious use of language somecentury hence. Terms and statements are perpetually saturated by theuses made of them. Etymology and the dictionary resist effects in vain.And as single words may thus be discharged of their lawful meaning, sothe total purport of words, that is, truths themselves, may in likemanner be disgraced. If the man of ordinary heart ostentatiouslypatronize the maxims of perfect charity, if the traditional priest orfeeble pietist repeat the word _God_ or recite the raptures ofadoring bards, the sentences they maunder and the sentiments they belieare alike covered with rust; and in due time some Shelley will turnatheist in the interest of religion, and some Johnson in the interestof morality aver that he writes for money alone.

But Truth does not share the fortunes of her verbal body. The grandideas, the master-imaginations and moving faiths of men, run in theblood of the race; and a given degree of pure human heat infalliblybrings them out. Not more surely does the rose appear on the rose-bush,or the apple, pear, or peach upon the trees of the orchard, than thesefruits of the soul upon nations of powerful and thrifty spirit. Forwant of vitality the shrub may fail to flower, the tree to bear fruit,and man to bring forth his spiritual product; but if Thought beattained, certain thoughts and imaginations will come of it. Let twonations at opposite sides of the globe, and without intercommunicationarrive at equal stages of mental culture, and the language of the onewill, on the whole, be equivalent to that of the other, nay, the veryrhetoric, the very fancies of the one will, in a broad way ofcomparison, be tantamount to those of the other. The nearer we get toany past age, the more do we find that the totality of its conceptionsand imaginings is much the same with that of our own. There arespecific variation and generic unity; and he whom the former blinds tothe latter reads the old literatures without eyes, and knows neitherhis own time nor any other. Owen, Agassiz, Carpenter explain thehomologies of anatomy and physiology; but a doctrine of the homologiesof thought is equally possible, and will sometime be set forth.

The basis, then, of any sufficient doctrine of literature and literaryproduction is found in two statements:--

First, that the perfect truth of the universe issues, by vitalrepresentation, into the personality of man.

Secondly, that this truth _tends_ in every man, though often inthe obscurest way, toward intellectual and artistic expression.

Now just so far as by any man's speech we feel ourselves brought intodirect relationship with this ever-issuing fact, so far the impressionsof originality are produced. That all his words were in the dictionarybefore he used them,--that all his thoughts, under some form ofintimation, were in literature before he arrived at them,--matters not;it is the verity, the vital process, the depth of relationship, whichconcerns us.

Nay, in one sense, the older his truth, the _more_ do the effectsof originality lie open to him. The simple, central, imperial elementsof human consciousness are first in order of expression, and continueforever to be first in order of power and suggestion. The greatpurposes, the great thoughts and melodies issue always from these. Thisis the quarry which every masterly thinker or poet must work. Homer isHomer because he is so simply true alike to earth and sky,--to theperpetual experience and perpetual imagination of mankind. Had he goneworking around the edges, following the occasional _detours_ andslips of consciousness, there would have been no "Iliad" or "Odyssey"for mankind to love and for Pope to spoil. The great poets tell usnothing new. They remind us. They bear speech deep into our being, andto the heart of our heart lend a tongue. They have words thatcorrespond to facts in all men and women. But they are not newsmongers.

Yesterday, I read in a prose translation of the "Odyssey" the exquisiteidyl of Nausicaa and her Maids, and the discovery of himself byUlysses. Perhaps the picture came out more clearly than ever before; atany rate, it filled my whole day with delight, and to-day I seem tohave heard some sweetest good tidings, as if word had come from an oldplaymate, dear and distant in memory, or a happy and wealthy letter hadarrived from a noble friend. Whence this enrichment? There was nothingin this idyl, to which, even on a first reading, I could give the nameof "new truth." The secret is, that I _have_ indeed had tidings ofold playmates, dear and distant in memory,--of those bright-eyed,brave, imaging playmates of all later ages, the inhabitants of Homer'sworld. And little can one care for novelties of thought, in comparisonwith these tones from the deeps of undying youth. Bring to our lipsthese cups of the fresh wine of life, if you would do good. Bring usthese; for it is by perpetual rekindlings of the youth in us that ourlife grows and unfolds. Each advancing epoch of the inward life is noless than this,--a fresh efflux of adolescence from the immortal andexhaustless heart. Everywhere the law is the same,--Become as a littlechild, to reach the heavenly kingdoms. This, however, we become not byany return to babyhood, but by an effusion or emergence from within ofpure life,--of life which takes from years only their wisdom and theirchastening, and gives them in payment its perfect renewal.

This, then, is the proof of originality,--that one shall utter the pureconsciousness of man. If he live, and live humanly, in his speech, thespeech itself will live; for it will obtain hospitality in all wealthyand true hearts.

But if the most original speech be, as is here explained, of that whichis oldest and most familiar in the consciousness of man, itnevertheless does not lack the charm of surprise and all effects ofnewness. For, in truth, nothing is so strange to men as the very factsthey seem to confess every day of their lives. Truisms, I have said,are the corpses of truths; and they are as far from the fact they aretaken to represent as the perished body from the risen soul. Themystery of truth is hidden behind them; and when next it shall comeforth, it will bring astonishment, as at first. Every time the grandold truths are livingly uttered, the world thinks it never heard thembefore. The news of the day is hardly spoken before it is antiquated.For this an hour too late is a century, is forever, too late. But truthof life and the heart, the world-old imaginations, the root-thoughts ofhuman consciousness,--these never lose their privilege to surprise, andat every fresh efflux are wellnigh sure to be persecuted by some asunlawful impositions upon the credence of mankind. Nay, the same oftenhappens with the commonest truths of observation. Mr. Ruskin describesleaves and clouds, objects that are daily before all eyes; and the veryartists cry, "Fie upon him!" as a propounder of childish novelties:slowly they perceive that it was leaves and clouds which were novel.Luther thunders in the ears of the Church its own creed; the Pope asks,"Is it possible that he believes all this?" and the priesthood scream,"To the stake with the heretic!" A poet prints in the "AtlanticMonthly" a simple affirmation of the indestructibility of man's truelife; numbers of those who would have been shocked and exasperated tohear questioned the Church dogma of immortality exclaim against this asa ridiculous paradox. Once in a while there is grown a heart sospacious that Nature finds in it room to chant aloud the word_God_, and set its echoes rolling billowy through one man's being;and he, lifting up his voice to repeat it among men from that inwardhearing, invariably astounds, and it may be infuriates hiscontemporaries. The simple proposition, GOD IS, could it once be_wholly_ received, would shake our sphere as no earthquake everdid, and would leave not one stone upon another, I say not merely ofsome city of Lisbon, but of entire kingdoms and systems ofcivilization. The faintest inference from this cannot be vigorouslyannounced in modern senates without sending throbs of terror over halfa continent, and eliciting shrieks of remonstrance from the veryshrines of worship.

The ancient perpetual truths prove, at each fresh enunciation, not onlysurprising, but incredible. The reason is, that they overfill thevessels of men's credence. If you pour the Atlantic Ocean into a pintbasin, what can the basin do but refuse to contain it, and so spill itover? Universal truths are as spacious and profound as the universeitself; and for the cerebral capacity of most of us the universe isreally somewhat large!

But as the major numbers of mankind are too little self-reverent todispense with the services of self-conceit, they like to thinkthemselves equal, and very easily equal, to any truth, and habituallyassume their extempore, off-hand notion of its significance as aperfect measure of the fact. As if a man hollowed his hand, and,dipping it full out of Lake Superior, said, "Lake Superior just fillsmy hand!" To how many are the words _God, Love, Immortality_ justsuch complacent handfuls! And when some mariner of God seizes them withloving mighty arms, and bears them in his bark beyond sight of theirwonted shores, what wonder that they perceive not the identity of thissky-circled sea with their accustomed handful? Yet, despite egotism andnarrowness of brain and every other limitation, the spirit of man willclaim its privilege and assert its affinity with all truth; and in suchmeasure as one utters the pure heart of mankind, and states the realrelationships of human nature, is he sure of ultimate audience andsufficing love.

ERICSSON AND HIS INVENTIONS.

No events of the present war will be longer remembered, or will hold amore prominent place in History, than those which took place on theeighth and ninth of March in Hampton Roads, when the Rebel steamerMerrimack attacked the Federal fleet. We all know what havoc she madein her first day's work. When the story of her triumphs flashed overthe wires, it fell like a thunderbolt upon all loyal hearts.

The Cumberland, manned by as gallant a crew as ever fought under theStars and Stripes, had gone down helplessly before her. The Congress,half-manned, but bravely defended, had been captured and burnt.Sailing frigates, such as were deemed formidable in the days of Hulland Decatur, and which some of our old sea-dogs still believed to bethe main stay of the navy, were found to be worse than useless againstthis strange antagonist. Our finest steam-frigates, thoughaccidentally prevented from getting fairly into action, seemed likely,however skilfully handled, to have proved almost as inefficient; forall our batteries and broadsides had produced no effect on thisiron-clad monster. She had gone back to her lair uninjured. What was toprevent her from coming out again to break the blockade, bombard ourseaports, sink and destroy everything that came in her way?

But we had only seen the first act of the drama. The curtain was torise again, and a new character was to appear on the stage. Thechampion of the Union, in complete armor, was about to enter the lists.When the Merrimack steamed out defiantly on Sunday morning, the Monitorwas there to meet her. Then, for the first time in naval warfare, twoiron-clad vessels were pitted against each other. The Merrimack wasdriven back disabled. We breathed freely again at this_denouement_, and congratulated ourselves that the nation hadbeen saved from enormous damage and disgrace. We did not foresee thatthe great Rebel monster, despairing of a successful encounter with herantagonist, was to end her career by suicide. We thought only of thevast injury which she might have done, and might yet be capable ofdoing, to the Union cause, but from which we had so providentiallyescaped. It was indeed a narrow escape. Nothing but the opportunearrival of the Monitor saved us; and for this impregnable vessel weare indebted to the genius of Ericsson.

This distinguished engineer and inventor, although a foreigner bybirth, has long been a citizen of the United States. His first work inthis country--by which, as in the present instance, he added honor andefficiency to the American navy--was the steam-frigate Princeton, avessel which in her day was almost as great a novelty as the Monitor isnow. The improvements in steam machinery and propulsion and in the artsof naval warfare, which he introduced in her, formed the subject of alecture delivered before the Boston Lyceum by John O. Sargent, in 1844,from which source we derive some interesting particulars concerningEricsson's early history.

John Ericsson was born in 1803, in the Province of Vermeland, among theiron mountains of Sweden. His father was a mining proprietor, so thatthe youth had ample opportunities to watch the operation of thevarious engines and machinery connected with the mines. These had beenerected by mechanicians of the highest scientific attainments, andpresented a fine study to a mind of mechanical tendencies. Under suchinfluences, his innate mechanical talent was early developed. At theage of ten years, he had constructed with his own hands, and after hisown plans, a miniature sawmill, and had made numerous drawings ofcomplicated mechanical contrivances, with instruments of his owninvention and manufacture.

In 1814 he attracted the attention of the celebrated Count Platen, whohad heard of his boyish efforts, and desired an interview with him.After carefully examining various plans and drawings which the youthexhibited, the Count handed them back to him, simply observing, in animpressive manner, "Continue as you have commenced, and you will oneday produce something extraordinary."

Count Platen was the intimate personal friend of Bernadotte, the Kingof Sweden, and was regarded by him with a feeling little short ofveneration. It was Count Platen who undertook and carried through, inopposition to the views of the Swedish nobility, and of nearly thewhole nation, that gigantic work, the Grand Ship Canal of Sweden, whichconnects the North Sea with the Baltic. He died Viceroy of Norway, andleft behind him the reputation of one of the greatest men of thecentury. The few words of kind encouragement which he spoke, on theoccasion to which we have referred, sank deeply into the mind of theyoung mechanician, and confirmed him in the career on which he hadentered.

Immediately after this interview young Ericsson was made a cadet in thecorps of engineers, and, after six months' tuition, at the age oftwelve years, was appointed _niveleur_ on the Grand Ship Canalunder Count Platen. In this capacity, in the year 1816, he was requiredto set out the work for more than six hundred men. The canal wasconstructed by soldiers. He was at that time not tall enough to lookthrough the levelling-instrument; and in using it, he was obliged tomount upon a stool, carried by his attendants for that purpose. As thediscipline in the Swedish army required that the soldier should alwaysuncover the head in speaking to his superior, gray-headed men came, capin hand, to receive their instructions from this mere child.

While thus employed in the summer months, he was constantly occupiedduring the winter with his pencil and pen; and there are manyimportant works on the canal constructed after drawings made byEricsson at this early age. During his leisure hours, he measured upand made working-drawings of every implement and piece of machineryconnected with this great enterprise; so that at the age of fifteen hewas in possession of accurate plans of the whole work, drawn by his ownhand.

His associations with military men on the canal had given him aninclination for military life; and at the age of seventeen he enteredthe Swedish army as an ensign, without the knowledge of his friend andpatron, Count Platen. This step excited the indignation of the Count,who tried to prevail upon him to change his resolution; but finding allhis arguments useless, he terminated an angry interview by biddingthe young ensign "go to the Devil." The affectionate regard which heentertained for the Count, and gratitude for the interest taken by himin his education, caused the circumstances of this interview to make adeep impression upon Ericsson, but were not sufficient to shake hisdetermination.

Soon after the young ensign had entered upon his regimental duties, anaffair occurred which threatened to obscure his hitherto brightprospects. His Colonel, Baron Koskull, had been disgraced by the King,about the time that he had recommended Ericsson for promotion. Thiscircumstance induced the King to reject the recommendation. The Colonelwas exceedingly annoyed by this rejection; and having in his possessiona military map made by the expectant ensign, he took it to his RoyalHighness the Crown Prince Oscar, and besought him to intercede for theyoung man with the King. The Prince received the map very kindly,expressing great admiration of its beautiful finish and execution, andpresented himself in person with it to the King, who yielded to thejoint persuasion of the Prince and the map, and promoted the youngensign to the lieutenancy for which he had been recommended.

About the time of this promotion, the Government had ordered thenorthern part of Sweden to be accurately surveyed. It being the desireof the King that officers of the army should be employed in thisservice, Ericsson, whose regiment was stationed in the northernhighlands, proceeded to Stockholm, for the purpose of submittinghimself to the severe examination then a prerequisite to theappointment of Government surveyor.

The mathematical education which he had received under Count Platen nowproved very serviceable. He passed the examination with greatdistinction, and in the course of it, to the surprise of the examiners,showed that he could repeat Euclid _verbatim_,--not by theexercise of the memory, which in Ericsson is not remarkably retentive,but from his perfect mastery of geometrical science. There is no doubtthat it is this thorough knowledge of geometry to which he is indebtedfor his clear conceptions on all mechanical subjects.

Having returned to the highlands, he entered on his new vocation withgreat assiduity; and, supported by an unusually strong constitution, hemapped a larger extent of territory than any other of the numeroussurveyors employed on the work. There are yet in the archives of Swedendetailed maps of upwards of fifty square miles made by his hand.

Neither the great labors attending these surveys, nor his militaryduties, could give sufficient employment to the energies of the youngofficer. In connection with a German engineer, Major Pentz, he nowbegan the arduous task of compiling a work on Canals, to be illustratedby sixty-four large plates, representing the various buildings,machines, and instruments connected with the construction of suchworks. The part assigned to him in this enterprise was nothing lessthan that of making all the drawings, as well as of engraving thenumerous plates; and as all the plates were to be executed in the styleof what is called machine-engraving, he undertook to construct amachine for the purpose, which he successfully accomplished. This workhe prosecuted with so much industry, in the midst of his other variouslabors, that, within the first year of its commencement, he hadexecuted eighteen large plates, which were pronounced by judges ofmachine-engraving to be of superior merit.

While thus variously occupied, being on a visit to the house of hisColonel, Ericsson on one occasion showed his host, by a very simpleexperiment, how readily mechanical power may be produced, independentlyof steam, by condensing flame. His friend was much struck by the beautyand simplicity of the experiment, and prevailed upon Ericsson to givemore attention to a principle which he considered highly important. Theyoung officer accordingly made sonic experiments on an enlarged scale,and succeeded in the production of a motive power equal to that of asteam-engine of ten-horse power. So satisfactory was the result, fromthe compact form of the machine employed, as well as the comparativelysmall consumption of fuel, that he conceived the idea of at oncebringing it out in England, the great field for all mechanicalinventions.

Ericsson accordingly obtained, leave from the King to visit England,where he arrived on the eighteenth of May, 1826. He there proceeded toconstruct a working engine on the principle above mentioned, but soondiscovered that his _flame-engine_, when worked by the combustionof mineral coals, was a different thing from the experimental model hehad tried in the highlands of Sweden, with fuel composed of thesplinters of fine pine wood. Not only did he fail to produce anextended and vivid flame, but the intense heat so seriously affectedall the working parts of the machine as soon to cause its destruction.

These experiments, it may well be supposed, were attended with notrifling expenditure; and, to meet these demands upon him, our youngadventurer was compelled to draw on his mechanical resources.

Invention now followed invention in rapid succession, until the recordsof the Patent-Office in London were enriched with the drawings of theremarkable steam-boiler on the principle of _artificial draught_;to which principle we are mainly indebted for the benefits conferred oncivilization by the present rapid communication by railways. Inbringing this important invention before the public, Ericsson thoughtit advisable to join some old and established mechanical house inLondon; and accordingly he associated himself with John Braithwaite, aname favorably known in the mechanical annals of England. Thisinvention was hardly developed, when an opportunity was presented fortesting it in practice.

The directors of the Liverpool and Manchester Railway, before erectingthe stationary engines by which they had intended to draw theirpassenger and freight carriages, determined to appeal to the mechanicaltalent of the country, in the hope of securing some preferable form ofmotor. A prize was accordingly offered, in the autumn of 1829, for thebest locomotive engine, to be tested on the portion of the railway thencompleted. Ericsson was not aware that any such prize had been offered,until within seven weeks of the day fixed for the trial. He was notdeterred by the shortness of the time, but, applying all his energiesto the task, planned an engine, executed the working-drawings, and hadthe whole machine constructed within the seven weeks.

The day of trial arrived. Three engines entered the lists for theprize,--namely, the Rocket, by George Stephenson; the Sanspareil, byTimothy Hackworth; and the Novelty, by Ericsson. Both sides of therailway, for more than a mile in length, were lined with thousands ofspectators. There was no room for jockeying in such a race, forinanimate matter was to be put in motion, and that moves only inaccordance with immutable laws. The signal was given for the start.Instead of the application of whip and spur, the gentle touch of thesteam-valve gave life and motion to the novel machine.

Up to that period, the greatest speed at which man had been carriedalong the ground was that of the race-horse; and no one of themultitude present on this occasion expected to see that speedsurpassed. It was the general belief that the maximum attainable by thelocomotive engine would not much exceed ten miles. To the surprise andadmiration of the crowd, however, the Novelty steam-carriage, the_fastest_ engine started, guided by its inventor Ericsson,assisted by John Braithwaite, darted along the track at the rate ofupwards of fifty miles an hour!

The breathless silence of the multitude was now broken by thunders ofhurras, that drowned the hiss of the escaping steam and the rolling ofthe engine-wheels. To reduce the surprise and delight excited on thisoccasion to the universal standard, and as an illustration of theextent to which the value of property is sometimes enhanced by thesuccess of a mechanical invention, it may be stated, that, when theNovelty had run her two miles and returned, the shares of the Liverpooland Manchester Railway had risen _ten per cent_.

But how easily may the just expectations of an inventor bedisappointed! Although the principle of _artificial draught_--theprinciple which gave to the Novelty such decided superiority inspeed--is yet retained in all locomotive engines, the mode of producingthis draught in our present engines is far different from thatintroduced by Ericsson, and was discovered by the merest accident; andso soon was this discovery made, after the successful display of theNovelty engine, that Ericsson had no time to derive the least advantagefrom its introduction. To him, however, belongs the credit of havingdisproved the correctness of the once established theory, that it wasabsolutely necessary that a certain _extensive_ amount of_surface_ should be exposed to the fire, to generate a givenquantity of steam.

The remarkable lightness and compactness of the new boiler invented byEricsson led to the employment of steam in many instances in which ithad been previously inapplicable. Among these may be mentioned thesteam fire-engine constructed by him in conjunction with Mr.Braithwaite, about the same time with the Novelty, and which excited somuch interest in London at the time the Argyle Rooms were on fire. Asimilar engine of greater power was subsequently constructed byEricsson and Braithwaite for the King of Prussia, which was mainlyinstrumental in saving several valuable buildings at a great fire inBerlin. For this invention Ericsson received, in 1842, the large goldmedal offered by the Mechanics' Institute of New York for the best planof a steam fire-engine.

In the year 1833 Ericsson brought before the scientific world in Londonhis invention of the Caloric-Engine, which had been a favorite subjectof speculation and reflection with him for many years. From theearliest period of his mechanical labors, he had been in the habit ofregarding heat as an agent, _which, whilst it exerts mechanicalforce, undergoes no change._ The steam in the cylinder of asteam-engine, after having lifted the weight of the piston, containsjust as much heat as it did before leaving the boiler,--minus only theloss by radiation. Yet in the low-pressure engine we turn the steam,after having performed its office, into a condensing-apparatus, wherethe heat is in a manner annihilated; and in the high-pressure engine wethrow it away into the atmosphere.

The acting medium employed in the Caloric-Engine is atmospheric air;and the leading peculiarity of the machine, as originally designed byEricsson, is, that by means of an apparatus styled the Regenerator theheat contained in the air which escapes from the working cylinder istaken up by the air which enters it at each stroke of the piston andused over and over again.

The machine constructed by Ericsson in London was a working engine offive-horse power, the performance of which was witnessed by manygentlemen of scientific pretensions in that metropolis. Among others,the popular author, Sir Richard Phillips, examined it; and in his"Dictionary of the Arts of Life and of Civilization," he thus noticesthe result of this experiment:--"The author has, with inexpressibledelight, seen the first model machine of five-horse power at work. Witha handful of fuel, applied to the very sensible medium of atmosphericair, and a most ingenious disposition of its differential powers, hebeheld a resulting action in narrow compass, capable of extension to asgreat forces as ever can be wielded or used by man." Dr. Andrew Urewent so far as to say that the invention would "throw the name of hisgreat countryman, James Watt, into the shade." Professor Faraday gaveit an earnest approval. But, with these and some other eminentexceptions, the scientific men of the day condemned the principle onwhich the invention was based as unsound and untenable.

The interest which the subject excited did not escape the BritishGovernment. Before many days had elapsed, the Secretary of the HomeDepartment, accompanied by Mr. Brunel, the constructor of the ThamesTunnel, made his appearance in the engine-room where the new motivepower was in operation. Mr. Brunel, who was at that time somewhatadvanced in years, conceived at the outset an erroneous notion of thenature of the new power, which he would not suffer to be corrected byexplanations. A discussion sprang up between him and the inventor,which was followed by a long correspondence. The result was, that anunfavorable impression of the invention was communicated to the BritishGovernment.

The invention fared little better at the hands of Professor Faraday,from whose efficient advocacy the most favorable results might havebeen anticipated. This gentleman had announced that he would deliver alecture on the subject in London, in the spacious theatre of the RoyalInstitution. The novelty of the invention, combined with thereputation of the lecturer, had attracted a very large audience,including many individuals of eminent scientific attainments. Justhalf an hour, however, before he was expected to enlighten thisdistinguished assembly, the celebrated lecturer discovered that he hadmistaken the expansive principle which is the very life of themachine. Although he had spent many hours in studying theCaloric-Engine in actual operation, and in testing its absolute forceby repeated experiments, Professor Faraday was compelled to inform hishearers, at the very outset, that he did not know why the engine workedat all. He was obliged to confine himself, therefore, to theexplanation of the Regenerator, and the process by which the heat iscontinually returned to the cylinder, and re-employed in theproduction of force. To this part of the invention he rendered amplejustice, and explained it in that felicitous style to which he isindebted for the reputation he deservedly enjoys, as the most agreeableand successful lecturer in England.

Other causes than the misconception of a Brunel and a Faraday operatedto retard the practical success of this beautiful invention. The hightemperature which it was necessary to keep up in the circulating mediumof the engine, and the consequent oxidation, soon destroyed thepistons, valves, and other working parts. These difficulties theinventor endeavored to remedy, in an engine, which he subsequentlyconstructed, of much larger powers, but without success. His failure inthis respect, however, did not deter him from prosecuting hisinvention. He continued his experiments from time to time, asopportunity permitted, confident that he was gradually, but surely,approaching the realization of his great scheme.

Meanwhile he applied himself with his accustomed energy to thepractical working out of another favorite idea. The principle of theEricsson propeller was first suggested to the inventor by a study ofthe means employed to propel the inhabitants of the air and deep. Hesatisfied himself that all such propulsion in Nature is produced byoblique action; though, in common with all practical men, he at firstsupposed that it was inseparably attended by a loss of power. But whenhe reflected that this was the principle invariably adopted by theGreat Mechanician of the Universe, in enabling the birds, insects, andfishes to move through their respective elements, he knew that he mustbe in error. This he was soon able to demonstrate, and he becameconvinced, by a strict application of the laws which govern matter andmotion, that no loss of power whatever attends the oblique action ofthe propelling surfaces applied to Nature's locomotives. Afterhaving satisfied himself on the theory of the subject, the first stepof the inventor was the construction of a small model, which he triedin the circular basin of a bath in London. To his great delight, soperfectly was his theory borne out in practice, that this model, thoughless than two feet long, performed its voyage about the basin at therate of three English miles an hour.

The next step in the invention was the construction of a boat fortyfeet long, eight feet beam, and three feet draught of water, with twopropellers, each of five feet three inches in diameter. So successfulwas this experiment, that, when steam was turned on the first time, theboat at once moved at a speed of upwards of ten miles an hour, withouta single alteration being requisite in her machinery. Not only did sheattain this considerable speed, but her power to tow larger vessels wasfound to be so great that schooners of one hundred and forty tons'burden were propelled by her at the rate of seven miles an hour; andthe American packet-ship Toronto was towed in the river Thames by thisminiature steamer at the rate of more than five English miles an hour.This feat excited no little interest among the boatmen of the Thames,who were astonished at the sight of this novel craft moving againstwind and tide without any visible agency of propulsion, and, ascribingto it some supernatural origin, united in giving it the name of the_Flying Devil_. But the engineers of London Hoarded theexperiment with silent neglect; and the subject, when laid before theLords of the British Admiralty, failed to attract any favorable noticefrom that august body.

Perceiving its peculiar and admirable fitness for ships of war,Ericsson was confident that their Lordships would at once order theconstruction of a war-steamer on the new principle. He invited them,therefore, to take an excursion in tow of his experimental boat.Accordingly, the gorgeous and gilt Admiralty Barge was ordered up toSomerset House, and the little steamer was lashed along-side. The bargecontained Sir Charles Adam, Senior Lord of the Admiralty,--Sir WilliamSimonds, Chief Constructor of the British Navy,--Sir Edward Parry, thecelebrated Arctic navigator,--Captain Beaufort, the Chief of theTopographical Department of the British Admiralty,--and others ofscientific and naval distinction.

In the anticipation of a severe scrutiny from so distinguished apersonage as the Chief Constructor of the British Navy, the inventorhad carefully prepared plans of his new mode of propulsion, which werespread on the damask cloth of the magnificent barge. To his utterastonishment, as we may well imagine, this scientific gentleman did notappear to take the slightest interest in his explanations. On thecontrary, with those expressive shrugs of the shoulder and shakes ofthe head which convey so much to the bystander without absolutelycommitting the actor,--with an occasional sly, mysterious, undertoneremark to his colleagues,--he indicated very plainly, that, though hishumanity would not permit him to give a worthy man cause for so muchunhappiness, yet that "he could, an if he would," demonstrate by asingle word the utter futility of the whole invention.

Meanwhile the little steamer, with her precious charge, proceeded at asteady progress of ten miles an hour, through the arches of the loftySouthwark and London bridges, towards Limehouse, and the steam-enginemanufactory of the Messrs. Seaward. Their Lordships having landed, andinspected the huge piles of ill-shaped cast-iron, misdenominated marineengines, intended for some of His Majesty's steamers, with a look attheir favorite propelling--apparatus, the Morgan paddle-wheel, theyreembarked, and were safely returned to Somerset House by thedisregarded, noiseless, and unseen propeller of the new steamer.

On parting, Sir Charles Adam, with a sympathizing air, shook theinventor cordially by the hand, and thanked him for the trouble he hadbeen at in showing him and his friends this _interesting_experiment, adding that he feared he had put himself to too great anexpense and trouble on the occasion. Notwithstanding this somewhatominous _finale_ of the day's excursion, Ericsson felt confidentthat their Lordships could not fail to perceive the great importance ofthe invention. To his surprise, however, a few days afterwards, afriend put into his hands a letter written by Captain Beaufort, at thesuggestion, probably, of the Lords of the Admiralty, in which thatgentleman, who had himself witnessed the experiment, expressed regretto state that their Lordships had certainly been very much disappointedat its result. The reason for the disappointment was altogetherinexplicable to the inventor; for the speed attained at this trial farexceeded anything that had ever been accomplished by any paddle-wheelsteamer on so small a scale.

An accident soon relieved his astonishment, and explained themysterious givings-out of Sir William Simonds on the day of theexcursion. The subject having been started at a dinner-table where afriend of Ericsson's was present, Sir William ingeniously andingenuously remarked, that, "even if the propeller had the power ofpropelling a vessel, it would be found altogether useless in practice,_because_, the power being applied in the _stern_, it wouldbe _absolutely impossible_ to make the vessel steer." It may notbe obvious to every one how our naval philosopher derived hisconclusion from his premises; but his hearers doubtless readilyacquiesced in the oracular proposition, and were much amused at theidea of undertaking to steer a vessel when the power was applied in herstern.

But we may well excuse the Lords of the British Admiralty forexhibiting no interest in the invention, when we reflect that theengineering corps of the empire were arrayed in opposition toit,--alleging that it was constructed upon erroneous principles, andfull of practical defects, and regarding its failure as too certain toauthorize any speculations even as to its success. The plan wasspecially submitted to many distinguished engineers, and was publiclydiscussed in the scientific journals; and there was no one but theinventor who refused to acquiesce in the truth of the numerousdemonstrations proving the vast loss of mechanical power which mustattend this proposed substitute for the old-fashioned paddle-wheel.

While opposed by such a powerful array of English scientific wisdom,the inventor had the satisfaction of submitting his plan to a citizenof the New World, Mr. Francis B. Ogden,--for many years Consul of theUnited States at Liverpool,--who was able to understand its philosophyand appreciate its importance. Though not an engineer by profession,Mr. Ogden was distinguished for his eminent attainments in mechanicalscience, and is entitled to the honor of having first applied theimportant principle of the expansive power of steam, and of havingoriginated the idea of employing right-angular cranks in marineengines. His practical experience and long study of the subject--for hewas the first to stem the waters of the Ohio and Mississippi, and thefirst to navigate the ocean by the power of steam alone--enabled him atonce to perceive the truth of the inventor's demonstrations. And notonly did he admit their truth, but he also joined Ericsson inconstructing the experimental boat to which we have alluded, andwhich the inventor launched into the Thames with the name of the"Francis B. Ogden," as a token of respect to his Transatlantic friend.

Other circumstances soon occurred which consoled the inventor for hisdisappointment in the rejection of the propeller by the BritishAdmiralty. The subject had been brought to the notice of an officer ofthe United States navy. Captain Robert F. Stockton, who was at thattime on a visit to London, and who was induced to accompany him in oneof his experimental excursions on the Thames. Captain Stockton isentitled to the credit of being the first naval officer who heard,understood, and dared to act upon the suggestions of Ericsson, as tothe application of the propeller to ships of war. At the first glance,he saw the important bearings of the invention; and his acute judgmentenabled him at once to predict that it was destined to work arevolution in naval warfare. After making a single trip in theexperimental steamboat, from London Bridge to Greenwich, he orderedthe inventor to build for him forthwith two iron boats for the UnitedStates, with steam-machinery and propeller on the plan of this rejectedinvention. "I do not want," said Stockton, "the opinions of yourscientific men; what I have seen this day satisfies me." He at oncebrought the subject before the Government of the United States, andcaused numerous plans and models to be made, at his own expense,explaining the peculiar fitness of the invention for ships of war. Socompletely persuaded was he of its great importance in this aspect,and so determined that his views should be carried out, that he boldlyassured the inventor that the Government of the United States wouldtest the propeller on a large scale; and so confident was Ericssonthat the perseverance and energy of Captain Stockton would sooner orlater accomplish what he promised, that he at once abandoned hisprofessional engagements in England, and came to the United States,where he fixed his residence in the city of New York. This was in theyear 1839.

Circumstances delayed, for some two years, the execution of their plan.With the change of the Federal Administration, Stockton was first ableto obtain a favorable hearing; and having at length received thenecessary authority, the Princeton was built under his superintendence,from the designs of Ericsson. She was completed and ready for seaearly in 1844, when she was pronounced by Stockton "the cheapest,fastest, and most certain ship of war in the world."

In this vessel, in addition to the propeller, Ericsson introduced hissemicylindrical steam-engine, a beautiful invention, so compact thatit occupied only one-eighth of the bulk of the British marine engineof corresponding power, and was placed more than four feet below thewater-line. The boilers were also below the water-line, having apeculiar heating-apparatus attached which effected a great saving offuel, and with their furnaces and flues so constructed as to burnanthracite as well as bituminous coal. Instead of the ordinary tallsmoke-pipe,--an insuperable objection to a steamer as a ship ofwar,--he constructed a smoke-pipe upon the principle of the telescope,which could be elevated or depressed at pleasure; and in order toprovide a draught independent of the height of the smoke-pipe, heplaced centrifugal blowers in the bottom of the vessel, which wereworked by separate small engines,--an arrangement originally appliedby him to marine engines in the steam-packet Corsair in 1831. Thus thesteam-machinery of the Princeton fulfilled the most importantrequisites for a war-steamer, combining lightness, compactness,simplicity, and efficiency, and being placed wholly out of reach of theenemy's fire.

The armament of the ship also exhibited many peculiarities. "By theapplication of the various arts to the purposes of war on board of thePrinceton," says Captain Stockton, in his report to the NavyDepartment, "it is believed that the art of gunnery for sea-servicehas, for the first time, been reduced to something like mathematicalcertainty. The distance to which the guns can throw their shot at everynecessary angle of elevation has been ascertained by a series ofcareful experiments. The distance from the ship to any object isreadily ascertained with an instrument on board, contrived for thatpurpose, by an observation which it requires but an instant to make,and by inspection without calculation. By self-acting locks, the gunscan be fired accurately at the necessary elevation,--no matter whatthe motion of the ship may be." The instruments here referred to,namely, the Distance-Instrument and the Self-Acting Gun-Lock, and alsothe wrought-iron gun-carriage, by means of which Captain Stockton'senormous guns were readily handled and directed, all were theproductions of Ericsson's fertile mechanical genius.

A committee of the American Institute, by whom this remarkable vesselwas examined, thus concluded their report:--"Your Committee take leaveto present the Princeton as every way worthy the highest honors of theInstitute. She is a sublime conception, most successfullyrealized,--an effort of genius skilfully executed,--a grand_unique_ combination, honorable to the country, as creditable toall engaged upon her. Nothing in the history of mechanics surpasses theinventive genius of Captain Ericsson, unless it be the moral daring ofCaptain Stockton, in the adoption of so many novelties at one time." Wemay add that in the Princeton was exhibited the first successfulapplication of screw-propulsion to a ship of war, and that she was thefirst steamship ever built with the machinery below the water-line andout of the reach of shot.

Ericsson spent the best part of two years in his labors upon thePrinceton. Besides furnishing the general plan of the ship andsupplying her in every department with his patented improvements, heprepared, with his own hand, the working-drawings for every part ofthe steam-machinery, propelling-apparatus, and steering-apparatus indetail, and superintended their whole construction and arrangement,giving careful and exact instructions as to the most minuteparticulars. In so doing, he was compelled to make frequent journeysfrom New York to Sandy Hook and Philadelphia, involving no small amountof trouble and expense. For the use of his patent rights in the engineand propeller, he had, at the suggestion of Captain Stockton, refrainedfrom charging the usual fees, consenting to accept, as fullsatisfaction, whatever the Government, after testing the inventions,should see fit to pay. He never imagined, however, that his laboriousservices as engineer were to go unrequited, or that his numerousinventions and improvements, unconnected with the engine and propeller,were to be furnished gratuitously. Yet, when, after the Princeton, aswe have seen, had been pronounced on all hands a splendid success,Ericsson presented his bill to the Navy Department,--not for thepatent-fees in question, but for the bare repayment of hisexpenditures, and compensation for his time and labor in the serviceof the United States,--he was informed that his claim could not beallowed; it could not be recognized as a "legal claim." It was notdenied that the services alleged had been rendered,--that the work forwhich compensation was asked had been done by Ericsson, and welldone,--nor that the United States were in the enjoyment of the unpaidresults of his labor and invention. A claim based upon suchconsiderations might, it would seem, have been brought within thedefinition of a legal claim. But if not admissible under the strictrules of the Navy Department, it was certainly an equitable demandagainst the United States; and Ericsson could not believe that therepresentatives of the great American people would stand upontechnicalities. He accordingly made a direct appeal to them in aMemorial to Congress.

We may as well here give the further history of this claim. It met withthe usual delays and obstructions that private claims, having nothingbut their intrinsic merits to support them, are compelled toencounter. It called forth the usual amount of legislativepettifogging. Session after session passed away, and still it hungbetween the two Houses of Congress, until the very time which hadelapsed since it was first presented began to be brought up as anargument against it. At length, when Congress established the Court ofClaims, a prospect opened of bringing it to a fair hearing and afinal decision. It was submitted to that tribunal six years ago. TheCourt decided in its favor,--the three judges (Gilchrist, Scarborough,and Blackford) being unanimous in their judgment. A bill directing itspayment was reported to the Senate,--and there it is still. Althoughfavorably reported upon by two committees at different sessions, andonce passed by the Senate, without a vote recorded against it, it hasnever yet got through both Houses of Congress. For furnishing thisGovernment with the magnificent war-steamer which was pronounced byCaptain Stockton "the cheapest, fastest, and most certain ship of warin the world," Ericsson has never been paid a dollar. It remains to beseen whether the present Congress will permit this stain upon thenational good faith to continue. If it does, its "votes of thanks" arelittle better than a mockery.

The efficiency and utility of the propeller having been establishedbeyond a doubt, it went at once into extensive use. But the inventorwas again disappointed in his just expectation of reaping an adequatepecuniary benefit from his exertions. Upon the strength of someattempts at screw-propulsion,--made and abandoned by variousexperimenters,--which had never resulted, and probably never wouldhave resulted, in any practical application, rival machines, whichconflicted with Ericsson's patent, soon made their appearance. A longlitigation followed, during which all attempts to collect patent-feeswere necessarily suspended; and the result was, that the invention wasvirtually abandoned to the public. But no one can take from Ericssonthe honor of having first introduced the screw-propeller into actualuse, and demonstrated its value,--an honor which is now freelyaccorded to him by the highest scientific authorities at home andabroad.

Although the first five years of his American experience had been lessprofitable, in a pecuniary sense, than he had anticipated, hecontinued to reside in the city of New York, where he found an amplefield for the exercise of his great powers in the line of hisprofession. He planned the war-steamer Pomone, the first screw-vesselintroduced into the French navy. He planned revenue-cutters for theUnited States Government, taking care always to have his contracts sodistinctly made that no question could again arise as to his "legalclaim." He invented a useful apparatus for supplying the boilers ofsea-going steamers with fresh water. He invented various modificationsof the steam-engine.

In the American division of the London Industrial Exhibition of allNations in 1851, he exhibited the Distance-Instrument, for measuringdistances at sea,--the Hydrostatic Gauge, for measuring the volume offluids under pressure,--the Reciprocating Fluid-Metre, for measuringthe quantity of water which passes through pipes during definiteperiods,--the Alarm-Barometer,--the Pyrometer, intended as a standardmeasure of temperature, from the freezing-point of water up to themelting-point of iron,--a Rotary Fluid-Metre, the principle of whichis the measurement of fluids by the velocity with which they passthrough apertures of different dimensions,--and a Sea-Lead, contrivedfor taking soundings at sea without rounding the vessel to the wind,and independently of the length of the lead-line. For these inventionshe received the prize-medal of the Exhibition.

But while thus continually occupied with new enterprises and objects,he did not lose sight of his great idea, the Caloric-Engine. All hisspare hours and spare funds were devoted to experiments with the viewof overcoming the practical difficulties which stood in the way of itssuccess. Towards the end of the year 1851 he seemed to be on the pointof realizing his hopes, having constructed a large stationary engine,which was applied with great success, at the Phoenix Foundry in NewYork, to the actual work of pumping water. Soon after, through theliberality of Mr. John B. Kitching, a well-known merchant of NewYork, he was enabled to test the invention on a magnificent scale. Aship of two thousand tons, propelled by the power of caloric-engines,was planned and constructed by him in the short space of seven months,and in honor of the inventor received the name of the "Ericsson."

Every one will remember the interest which this caloric-ship excitedthroughout the country. She made a trip from New York to Alexandria onthe Potomac, in very rough weather, in the latter part of February,1853. On this trip the engines were in operation for seventy-threehours without being stopped for a moment, and without requiring theslightest adjustment, the consumption of fuel being only five tons intwenty-four hours. At Alexandria she was visited by the President andPresident elect, the heads of the departments, a large number of navalofficers, and many members of both Houses of Congress, andsubsequently by the foreign ministers in a body, and by the Legislatureof Virginia, then in session. Ericsson was invited by a committee ofthe Legislature to visit Richmond, as the guest of the State. TheSecretary of the Navy recommended, in a special communication toCongress, the passage of a resolution authorizing him to contract forthe construction of a frigate of two thousand tons to be equipped withcaloric-engines, and to appropriate for this purpose five hundredthousand dollars. This recommendation failed in consequence of thepressure of business at the close of the session.

But notwithstanding the surprise and admiration which this achievementexcited in the scientific world, the speed attained was not sufficientto meet the practical exigencies of commerce; and the repetition ofthe engines on this large scale could not be undertaken at the chargeof individuals. Ericsson accordingly wisely devoted himself toperfecting the Calorie-Engine on a small scale, and in 1859 heproduced it in a form which has since proved a complete success. It isno longer a subject of experiment, but exists as a perfect, practicalmachine. More than five hundred of these engines, with cylindersvarying from a diameter of six inches to one of forty inches, are nowin successful operation. It is applied to purposes of pumping,printing, hoisting, grinding, sawing, turning light machinery, workingtelegraphic instruments and sewing-machines, and propelling boats. Noless than forty daily papers (among which we may mention the "NationalIntelligencer") are printed by means of this engine. In Cuba it isused for grinding sugar-cane, on Southern plantations for ginningcotton; and there is an endless variety of domestic, agricultural, andmechanical uses to which it may be advantageously applied.

The extent of power attainable by this machine, consistently with itsapplication to practical uses, is not yet precisely defined. Withinthe limit thus far given to it, its power is certain, uniform, andentirely sufficient. It is not attended with the numerous perils thatmake the steam-engine so uncomfortable a servant, but is absolutelyfree from danger. It requires no engineering supervision. It consumes avery small amount of fuel (about one-third of the amount required bythe steam-engine) and requires no water. These peculiarities not onlymake it a very desirable substitute for the steam-engine, but renderit available for many purposes to which the steam-engine would neverbe applied.

In addition to his regular professional avocations, Ericsson wasindustriously occupied in devising new applications of theCalorie-Engine, when the attempted secession of the Southern Statesplunged the country into the existing war and struck a blow at all thearts of peace. Ills whole heart and mind were given at once to thesupport of the Union. Liberal in all his ideas, he is warmly attachedto republican institutions, and has a hearty abhorrence of intoleranceand oppression in all their forms. His early military education andhis long study of the appliances of naval warfare increased theinterest with which he watched the progress of events. The abandonmentof the Norfolk navy-yard to the Rebels struck him as a disgrace thatmight have been avoided. He foresaw the danger of a formidableantagonist from that quarter in the steamship which we had soobligingly furnished them. The building of gun-boats withsteam-machinery _above_ the water-line--where the first shot froman enemy might render it useless--seemed to him, in view of what hehad done and was ready to do again, a very unnecessary error. Knowingthoroughly all the improvements made and making in the war-steamers ofEngland and France, and feeling the liability of their interference inour affairs, he could not appreciate the wisdom of building newvessels according to old ideas. The blockade of the Potomac by Rebelbatteries, in the very face of our navy, seemed to him an indignitywhich need not be endured, if the inventive genius of the North couldhave fair play.

An impregnable iron gun-boat was, in his judgment, the thing that wasneeded; and he determined that the plan of such a vessel should be hiscontribution towards the success of the war. The subject was not anew one to him. He had given it much consideration, and his plan, inall its essential features, had been matured long before. Proposalsfor iron-clad vessels having been invited by the Navy Department,Ericsson promptly submitted his plans and specifications. Knowing theopposition that novelties always encounter, he had no great expectationthat his proposal would be accepted. "I have done my part," said he; "Ihave offered my plan. It is for the Government to say whether I shallbe allowed to carry it out." He felt confident, however, that, if theplan should be brought to the notice of the President, his practicalwisdom and sound common sense could not fail to decide in its favor.Fortunately for the country, Ericsson's offer was accepted by the NavyDepartment. He immediately devoted all his energies to the execution ofhis task, and the result was the construction of the vessel to which hehimself gave the name of the "Monitor." What she is and what she hasaccomplished, we need not here repeat. Whatever may be her futurehistory, we may safely say, in the words of the New York Chamber ofCommerce, that "the floating-battery Monitor deserves to be, and willbe, forever remembered with gratitude and admiration."

We rejoice to believe that the merits and services of Ericsson are nowfully appreciated by the people of the United States. The thanks of thenation have been tendered to him by a resolution of Congress. TheBoston Board of Trade and the New York Chamber of Commerce have passedresolutions expressive of their gratitude. The latter body expressedalso their desire that the Government of the United States should maketo Captain Ericsson "such suitable return for his services as willevince the gratitude of a great nation." Upon hearing this suggestion,Ericsson, with characteristic modesty, remarked,--"All the remunerationI desire for the Monitor I get out of the construction of it. It isall-sufficient." Nevertheless we think the suggestion well worthy ofconsideration. In the same spirit of manly independence, hediscountenanced the movement set on foot among the merchants of NewYork for the subscription of a sum of money to be presented to him. Heasks nothing but fair remuneration for services rendered,--and that, itis to be hoped, the people will take care that he shall receive.

Ericsson is now zealously at work in constructing six new irongun-boats on the plan of the Monitor. If that remarkable structure canbe surpassed, he is the man to accomplish it. His ambition is to renderthe United States impregnable against the navies of the world. "Give meonly the requisite means," he writes, "and in a very short time we cansay to those powers now bent on destroying republican institutions,'_Leave the Gulf with your frail craft, or perish_!' I have all mylife asserted that mechanical science will put an end to the power ofEngland over the seas. The ocean is Nature's highway between thenations. It should be free; and surely Nature's laws, when properlyapplied, will make it so."

His reputation as an engineer is worldwide. In 1852 he was made aKnight of the Order of Vasa by King Oscar of Sweden. The followingextract from a poem "To John Ericsson" we translate from "SvenskaTidningen," the Government journal of Stockholm. It is eloquentlyexpressive of the pride and admiration with which he is regarded in hisnative country.

"World-wide his fame, so gracefully adorningHis native Sweden with enduring radiance!Not a king's crown could give renown so noble:For his is Thought's great triumph, and the sceptreHe wields is over elements his subjects!"

Although now in his sixtieth year, Ericsson has the appearance of a manof forty. He is in the very maturity of a vigorous manhood, and retainsall the fire and enthusiasm of youth. He has a frame of iron, cast in alarge and symmetrical mould. His head and face are indicative ofintellectual power and a strong will. His presence impresses one, atthe first glance, as that of an extraordinary man. His bearing isdignified and courteous, with a touch perhaps of military_brusquerie_ in his mode of address. He has a keen sense of humor,a kindly and generous disposition, and a genial and companionablenature. He is a "good hater" and a firm friend. Like all men of strongcharacter and outspoken opinions, he has some enemies; but his chosenfriends he "grapples to his heart with hooks of steel."

He is not a mere mechanician, but has great knowledge of men and ofaffairs, and an ample fund of information on all subjects. Hisconversation is engaging and instructive; and when he seeks to enlistcooeperation in his mechanical enterprises, few men can withstand theforce of his arguments and the power of his personal magnetism.

Although his earnings have sometimes been large, his heavy expendituresin costly experiments have prevented him from acquiring wealth. Moneyis with him simply a means of working out new ideas for the benefit ofmankind; and in this way he does not scruple to spend to the utmostlimit of his resources. He lives freely and generously, but is strictlytemperate and systematic in all his habits.

The amount of labor which he is capable of undergoing is astonishing.While engaged in carrying out his inventions, it is a common thing forhim to pass sixteen hours a day at his table, in the execution ofdetailed mechanical drawings, which he throws off with a facility andin a style that have probably never been surpassed. He does not seem toneed such recreation as other men pine after. He never cares to rundown to the seashore, or take a drive into the country, or spend a weekat Saratoga or at Newport. Give him his drawing-table, his plans, hismodels, the noise of machinery, the clatter of the foundry, and he isalways contented. Week in and week out, summer and winter, he works onand on,--and the harder he works, the more satisfied he seems to be. Heis as untiring as one of his own engines, which never stop so long asthe fire burns. Endowed with such a constitution, it is to be hopedthat new triumphs and many years of honor and usefulness are yet beforehim.

* * * * *

MOVING.

Man is like an onion. He exists in concentric layers. He is born abulb and grows by external accretions. The number and character of hisinvolutions certify to his culture and courtesy. Those of the boor arefew and coarse. Those of the gentleman are numerous and fine. But stripoff the scales from all and you come to the same germ. The core ofhumanity is barbarism. Every man is a latent savage.

You may be startled and shocked, but I am stating fact, not theory. Iannounce not an invention, but a discovery. You look around you, andbecause you do not see tomahawks and tattooing you doubt my assertion.But your observation is superficial. You have not penetrated into thesecret place where souls abide. You are staring only at the outsidelayer of your neighbors; just peel them and see what you will find.

I speak from the highest possible authority,--my own. Representing thegentler half of humanity, of respectable birth, tolerable parts, andgood education, as tender-hearted as most women, not unfamiliar withthe best society, mingling, to some extent, with those who understandand practise the minor moralities, you would at once infer from mycircumstances that I was a very fair specimen of the better class ofAmericans,--and so I am. For one that stands higher than I in themoral, social, and intellectual scale, you will undoubtedly find tenthat stand lower. Yet through all these layers gleam the fiery eyes ofmy savage. I thought I was a Christian, I have endeavored to do my dutyto my day and generation; but of a sudden Christianity and civilizationleave me in the lurch, and the "old Adam" within me turns out to bejust such a fierce Saxon pirate as hurtled down against the whiteshores of Britain fifteen hundred years ago.

For we have been moving.

People who live in cities and move regularly every year from one good,finished, right-side-up house to another will think I give a very smallreason for a very broad fact; but they do not know what they aretalking about. They have fallen into a way of looking upon a house onlyas an exaggerated trunk, into which they pack themselves annually withas much nonchalance as if it were only their preparation for a summertrip to the seashore. They don't strike root anywhere. They don't haveto tear up anything. A man comes with cart and horses. There is a stirin the one house,--they are gone;--there is a stir in the otherhouse,--they are settled,--and everything is wound up and set going torun another year. We do these things differently in the country. Wedon't build a house by way of experiment and live in it a few years,then tear it down and build another. We live in a house till it cracks,and then we plaster it over; then it totters, and we prop it up; thenit rocks, and we rope it down; then it sprawls, and we clamp it; thenit crumbles, and we have a new underpinning,--but keep living in it allthe time. To know what moving really means, you must move from justsuch a rickety-rackety old farmhouse, where you have clung and grownlike a fungus ever since there was anything to grow,--where your lifeand luggage have crept into all the crevices and corners, and everywall is festooned with associations thicker than the cobwebs, thoughthe cobwebs are pretty thick,--where the furniture and the pictures andthe knick-knacks are so become a part and parcel of the house, so grownwith it and into it, that you do not know they are chiefly rubbish tillyou begin to move them and they fall to pieces, and don't know it then,but persist in packing them up and carrying them away for the sake ofauld lang syne, till, set up again in your new abode, you suddenly findthat their sacredness is gone, their dignity has degraded intodinginess, and the faded, patched chintz sofa, that was not onlycomfortable, but respectable, in the old wainscoted sitting-room, hassuddenly turned into "an object," when lang syne goes by the board andthe heirloom is incontinently set adrift. Undertake to move from thistumble-down old house, strewn thick with the _debris_ of manygenerations, into a tumble-up, peaky, perky, plastery, shingly, starynew one, that is not half finished, and never will be, and good enoughfor it, and you will perhaps comprehend how it is that I find a greatcrack in my life. On the farther side are prosperity, science,literature, philosophy, religion, society, all the refinements, andamenities, and benevolences, and purities of life,--in short, all thearts of peace, and civilization, and Christianity,--and on thisside--moving. You will also understand why that one word comprises, tomy thinking, all the discomforts short of absolute physical torturethat can be condensed into the human lot. Condensed, did I say? If itwere a condensed agony, I could endure it. One great, stunning,overpowering blow is undoubtedly terrible, but you rally all yourfortitude to meet and resist it, and when it is over it is over and therecuperative forces go to work; but a trouble that worries and bafflesand pricks and rasps you, that penetrates into all the ramifications ofyour life, that fills you with profound disgust, and fires you withirrepressible fury, and makes of you an Ishmaelite indeed, with yourhand against every man and every man's hand against you,--ah! that isthe _experimentum crucis_. Such is moving, in the country,--not anact, but a process,--not a volition, but a fermentation.

We will say that the first of September is the time appointed for thetransit. The day approaches. It is the twenty-ninth of August. Iprepare to take hold of the matter in earnest. I am nipped in the budby learning that the woman who was to help about the carpets cannotcome, because her baby is taken with the croup. I have not a doubt ofit. I never knew a baby yet that did not go and have the croup, or thecolic, or the cholera infantum, just when it was imperatively necessarythat it should not have them. But there is no help for it. I shudderand bravely gird myself for the work. I tug at the heavy, bulky,unwieldy carpets, and am covered with dust and abomination. I thinkcarpets are the most untidy, unwholesome nuisances in the whole world.It is impossible to be clean with them under your feet. You may sweepyour carpet twenty times and raise a dust on the twenty-first. I amsure I heard long ago of some new fashion that was to beintroduced,--some Italian style, tiles, or mosaic-work, or something ofthe sort. I should welcome anything that would dispense with these vilerags. I sigh over the good old sanded floors that our grandmothersrejoiced in,--and so, apotheosizing the past and anathematizing thepresent, I pull away, and the tacks tear my fingers, and the hammerslips and lets me back with a jerk, and the dust fills my hair and noseand eyes and mouth and lungs, and my hands grow red and coarse andragged and sore and begrimed, and I pull and choke and cough andstrangle and pull.

So the carpets all come up and the curtains all come down. The bureausmarch out of the chamber-windows and dance on a tight-rope down intothe yard below. The chairs are set at "heads and points." The clothesare packed into the trunks. The flour and meal and sugar, all thewholesale edibles, are carted down to the new house and stored. Theforks are wrapped up and we eat with our fingers, and have nothing toeat at that. Then we are informed that the new house will not be readyshort of two weeks at least. Unavoidable delays. The plasterers werehindered; the painters misunderstood orders; the paperers havedefalcated, and the universe generally comes to a pause. It is nomatter in what faith I was nurtured, I am now a believer in totaldepravity. Contractors have no conscience; masons are not men of theirword; carpenters are tricky; all manner of cunning workmen are bruisedreeds. But there is nothing to do but submit and make the best ofit,--a horrible kind of mechanism. We go forthwith into a chrysalisstate for two weeks. The only sign of life is an occasional lurchtowards the new house, just sufficient to keep up the circulation. Oneday I dreamily carry down a basket of wine-glasses. At another time Ilistlessly stuff all my slippers into a huge pitcher and take up theline of march. Again a bucket is filled with tea-cups, or I shoulderthe fire-shovel. The two weeks drag themselves away, and the cry isstill, "Unfinished!" To prevent petrifying into a fossil remain, orrelapsing into primitive barbarism, or degenerating into a dormouse, Irouse my energies and determine to put my own shoulder to the wheel andsee if something cannot be accomplished. I rise early in the morningand walk to Dan, to hire a painter who is possessed of "gumption,""faculty." Arrived in Dan, I am told that he is in Beersheba. Nothingdaunted, I take a short cut across the fields to Beersheba, beardingmanifold dangers from rickety stone-walls, strong enough to keep womenin, but not strong enough to keep bears, bulls, and other wild beastsout,--toppling enough to play the mischief with draperies, but nottoppling enough to topple over when urgently pressed to do so. But Isecure my man, and remember no more my sorrow of bulls and stones forjoy at my success. From Beersheba I proceed to Padan-aram to buy sevenpounds of flour, thence to Galilee of the Gentiles for a pound ofcheese, thence to the land of Uz for a smoked halibut, thence to theends of the earth for a lemon to make life tolerable,--and the dayshobble on.

"The flying gold of the ruined woodlands" drives through the air, thesignal is given, and there is no longer "quiet on the Potomac." Theunnatural calm gives way to an unearthly din. Once more I bring myselfto bear on the furniture and the trumpery, and there is a smallhousehold whirlpool. All that went before "pales its ineffectualfires." Now comes the strain upon my temper, and my temper bends, andquivers, and creaks, and cracks. Ithuriel touches me with his spear;all the integuments of my conventional, artificial, and acquiredgentleness peel off, and I stand revealed a savage. Everything aroundme sloughs off its usual habitude and becomes savage. Looking-glassesare shivered by the dozen. A bit is nicked out of the best Chinasugar-bowl. A pin gets under the matting that is wrapped around thecentre-table and jags horrible hieroglyphics over the whole polishedsurface. The bookcase that we are trying to move tilts, and trembles,and goes over, and the old house through all her frame gives signs ofwoe. A crash detonate on the stairs brings me up from the depths of thecloset where I am burrowing. I remember seeing Petronius disappear amoment ago with my lovely and beloved marble Hebe in his arms. I rushrampant to the upper landing in time to see him couchant on the lower."I have broken my leg," roars Petronius, as if I cared for his leg. Afractured leg is easily mended; but who shall restore me the nose ofmy nymph, marred into irremediable deformity and dishonor?

Occasionally a gleam of sunshine shoots athwart the darkness to keep meback from rash deeds. Behind the sideboard I find a little cross ofdark, bright hair and gold and pearls, that I lost two years ago andwould not be comforted. O happy days woven in with the dark, brighthair! O golden, pearly days, come back to me again! "Never mind yourgewgaws," interposes real life; "what is to be done with the things inthis drawer?" Lying atop of a heap of old papers in the front-yard,waiting the match that is to glorify them into flame, I find a letterthat mysteriously disappeared long since and caused me infinite alarmlest indelicate eyes might see it and indelicate hands make ignoble useof its honest and honorable meaning. I learn also sundry new andinteresting facts in mechanics. I become acquainted for the first timewith the _modus operandi_ of "roller-cloths." I never understoodbefore how the roller got inside the towel. It was one of those gentledomestic mysteries that repel even while they invite investigation. Ishall not give the result of my discovery to the public. If you wishvery much to find out, you can move, as I did.

But the rifts of sunshine disappear, the clouds draw together and closein. The savage walks abroad once more, and I go to bed tired of life.

I have scarcely fallen asleep, when I am reluctantly, by short anddifficult stages, awakened. A rumbling, grating, strident noise firstconfuses, then startles me. Is it robbers? Is it an earthquake? Is itthe coming of fate? I lie rigid, bathed in a cold perspiration. I hearthe tread of banditti on the moaning stairs. I see the flutter ofghostly robes by the uncurtained windows. A chill, uncanny air rushesin and grips at my damp hair. I am nerved by the extremity of myterror. I will die of anything but fright. I jerk off the bedclothes,convulse into an upright posture, and glare into the darkness. Nothing.I rise softly, creep cautiously and swiftly over the floor, that alwayscreaked, but now thunders at every footfall. A light gleams throughthe open door of the opposite room whence the sound issues. A familiarvoice utters an exclamation which I recognize. It is Petronius, theunprincipled scoundrel, who is uncording a bed, dragging remorselesslythrough innumerable holes the long rope whose doleful wail came neargiving me an epilepsy. My savage lets loose the dogs of war. Petroniuswould fain defend himself by declaring that it is morning. Iindignantly deny it. He produces his watch. A fig for his watch! Istake my consciousness against twenty watches, and go to bed again; butSleep, angry goddess, once repulsed, returns no more. The dawn comes upthe sky and confirms the scorned watch. The golden daggers of themorning prick in under my eyelids, and Petronius introduces himselfupon the scene once more to announce, that, if I don't wish to becorded up myself, I must abdicate that bed. The threat does not terrifyme. Indeed, nothing at the moment seems more inviting than to be cordedup and let alone; but duty still binds me to life, and, assuringPetronius that the just law will do that service for him, if he doesnot mend his ways, I slowly emerge again into the world,--the dreary,chaotic world,--the world that is never at rest.

And there is hurrying to and fro, and a clang of many voices, and theclatter of much crockery, and a lifting, and balancing, and batteringagainst walls and curving around corners, and sundry contusions, and agreat waste of expletives, and a loading of wagons, and a driving ofpatient oxen back and forth with me generally on the top of the load,steadying a basket of eggs with one foot, keeping a tin can ofsomething from upsetting with the other, and both arms stretched arounda very big and very square picture-frame that knocks against my nose ormy chin every time the cart goes over a stone or drops into a rut, andthe wind threatening to blow my hat off, and blowing it off, and my"back-hair" tumbling down,--and the old house is at last despoiled. Therooms stand bare and brown and desolate. The sun, a hand-breadth abovethe horizon, pours in through the unblinking windows. The last load isgone. The last man has departed. I am left alone to lock up the houseand walk over the hill to the new home. Then, for the first time, Iremember that I am leaving. As I pass through the door of my own room,not regretfully, I turn. I look up and down and through and through theplace where I shall never rest again, and I rejoice that it is so. As Istand there, with the red, solid sunshine lying on the floor, lying onthe walls, unfamiliar in its new profusion, the silence becomesaudible. In the still October evening there is an effort in the air.The dumb house is striving to find a voice. I feel the struggle of itsinsensate frame. The old timbers quiver with the unusual strain. Thestrong, blind, vegetable energy agonizes to find expression, and,wrestling like a pinioned giant, the soul of matter throws off theweight of Its superincumbent inertia. Slowly, gently, most sorrowfullythrough the golden air cleaves a voice that is somewhat a wail, yet notuntuned by love. Inarticulate at first, I catch only the lowmournfulness; but it clears, it concentrates, it murmurs into cadence,it syllables into intelligence, and thus the old house speaks:--

"Child, my child, forward to depart, stay for one moment your eagerfeet. Put off from your brow the crown which the sunset has woven, andlinger yet a little longer in the shadow which enshrouds me forever. Iremember, in this parting hour, the day of days which the tremulousyears bore in their bosom,--a day crimson with the woodbine's happyflush and glowing with the maple's gold. On that day a tender, tinylife came down, and stately Silence fled before the pelting ofbaby-laughter. Faint memories of far-off olden time were softlystirred. Blindly thrilled through all my frame a vague, dim sense ofswelling buds, and singing-birds, and summer-gales,--of the purplebeauty of violets, the smells of fragrant earth, and the sweetness ofsummer dews and darks. Many a harvest-moon since then has filled heryellow horn, and queenly Junes crowned with roses have paled before thesternness of Decembers. But Decembers and Junes alike bore royal giftsto you,--gifts to the busy brain and the awakening heart. In dell andcopse and meadow and gay green-wood you drank great draughts of life.Yet, even as I watched, your eyes grew wistful. Your lips framedquestions for which the Springs found no reply, and the sacred mysteryof living brought its sweet, uncertain pain. Then you went away, and ashadow fell. A gleam passed out of the sunshine and a note from therobin's song. The knights that pranced on the household hearth grewfaint and still, and died for want of young eyes to mark theirsplendor. But when your feet, ever and anon, turned homeward, they useda firmer step, and I knew, that, though the path might be rough, youtrod it bravely. I saw that you had learned how doing is a nobler thingthan dreaming, yet kept the holy fire burning in the holy place. Butnow you go, and there will be no return. The stars are faded from thesky. The leaves writhe on the greensward. The breezes wail a dirge. Thesummer rain is pallid like winter snow. And--O bitterest cup ofall!--the golden memories of the past have vanished from your heart. Itotter down to the grave, while you go on from strength to strength.The Junes that gave you life brought death to me, and you sorrow not. Ochild of my tender care, look not so coldly on my pain! Breathe onesigh of regret, drop one tear of pity, before we part!"

The mournful murmur ceased. I am not adamant. My savage crouched out ofsight among the underbrush. I think something stirred in the back of myeyes. There was even a suspicion of dampness in front. I thrust my handin my pocket to have my handkerchief ready in case of a catastrophe. Itwas an unfortunate proceeding. My pocket was crammed full. I had topush my fingers in between all manner of rubbish, to get at therequired article, and when I got hold of it, I had to pull with all mymight to get it out, and when it did come, out with it came a tin boxof mustard seed, a round wooden box of tooth-powder, a ball of twine, apaper of picture-books, and a pair of gloves. Of course, the covers ofboth the boxes came off. The seed scattered over the floor. Thetooth-powder puffed a white cloud into my face. The ball of twineunrolled and trundled to the other side of the room. I gathered up whatI could, but, by the time order was restored and my handkerchief readyfor use, I had no use for it. The stirring in the back of my eyes hadstopped. The dewiness had disappeared. My savage sprang out from theunderbrush and brandished his tomahawk. And to the old house I madeanswer as a Bushman of Caffraria might, or a Sioux of thePrae-Pilgrimic Age:--

"Old House, hush up! Why do you talk stuff? 'Golden memories' indeed!To hear you, one might suppose you were an ivied castle on the Rhine,and I a fair-haired princess, cradled in the depths of regal luxury,feeding on the blossoms of a thousand generations, and heroic frominborn royalty. 'Tender care'! Did you not wake me in the middle of thenight, last summer, by trickling down water on my face from a passingshower? and did I not have to get up at that unearthly hour to move thebed, and step splash into a puddle, and come very near being floatedaway? Did not the water drip, drip, drip upon my writing-desk, and soakthe leather and swell the wood, and stain the ribbon and spoil thepaper inside, and all because you were treacherous at the roof and letit? Have you not made a perfect rattery of yourself, yawning at everypossible chink and crumbling at the underpinning, and keeping me awakenight after night by the tramp of a whole brigade of the Grand Armythat slaughtered Bishop Hatto? Whenever a breeze comes along stoutenough to make an aspen-leaf tremble, don't you immediately go intohysterics, and rock, and creak, and groan, as if you were the shell ofan earthquake? Don't you shrivel at every window to let in thenortheasters and all the snow-storms that walk abroad? Whenever aneedle, or a pencil, or a penny drops, don't you open somewhere andtake it in? 'Golden memories'! Leaden memories! Wooden memories! Maddenmemories!"

My savage gave a war-whoop. I turned scornfully. I swept down thestaircase. I banged the front-door. I locked it with an accent, andmarched up the hill. A soft sighing breathed past me. I knew it was theold house mourning for her departing child. The sun had disappeared,but the western sky was jubilant in purple and gold. The cool eveningcalmed me. The echoes of the war-whoop vibrated almost tenderly alongthe hushed hillside. I paused on the summit of the hill and lookedback. Down in the valley stood the sorrowful house, tasting the firstbitterness of perpetual desolation. The maples and the oaks and thebeech-trees hung out their flaming banners. The pond lay dark in theshadow of the circling hills. The years called to me,--the happy,sun-ripe years that I had left tangled in the apple-blossoms, andmoaning among the pines, and tinkling in the brook, and floating in thecups of the water-lilies. They looked up at me from the orchard, darkand cool. They thrilled across from the hill-tops, glowing still withthe glowing sky. I heard their voice by the lilac-bush. They smiled atme under the peach-trees, and where the blackberries had ripenedagainst the southern wall. I felt them once more in the clover-smellsand the new-mown hay. They swayed again in the silken tassels of thecrisp, rustling corn. They hummed with the bees in the garden-borders.They sang with the robins in the cherry-trees, and their tone wastender and passing sweet. They besought me not to cast away theirmemory for despite of the black-browed troop whose vile and sombrerobes had mingled in with their silver garments. They prayed me toforget, but not all. They minded me of the sweet counsel we had takentogether, when summer came over the hills and walked by thewatercourses. They bade me remember the good tidings of great joy whichthey had brought me when my eyes were dim with unavailing tears. Mylips trembled to their call. The war-whoop chanted itself into avesper. A happy calm lifted from my heart and quivered out over thevalley, and a comfort settled on the sad old house as I stretched forthmy hands and from my inmost soul breathed down a _Benedicite!_

* * * * *

METHODS OF STUDY IN NATURAL HISTORY.

It may seem to some of my readers that I have wandered from my subjectand forgotten the title of these articles, which purport to be a seriesof papers on "Methods of Study in Natural History." But some idea ofthe progress of Natural History, of its growth as a science, of thegradual evolving of general principles out of a chaotic mass of facts,is a better aid to the student than direct instruction upon specialmodes of investigation; and it is with the intention of presenting thestudy of Natural History from this point of view that I have chosen mytitle.

I have endeavored thus far to show how scientific facts have beensystematized so as to form a classification that daily grows more trueto Nature, in proportion as its errors are corrected by a more intimateacquaintance with the facts; but I will now attempt a more difficulttask, and try to give some idea of the mental process by which factsare transformed into scientific truth. I fear that the subject may seemvery dry to my readers, and I would again ask their indulgence fordetails absolutely essential to my purpose, but which would indeed bevery wearisome, did they not lead us up to an intelligent and mostsignificant interpretation of their meaning.

I should be glad to remove the idea that science is the mere amassingof facts. It is true that scientific results grow out of facts, but nottill they have been fertilized by thought The facts must be collected,but their mere accumulation will never advance the sum of humanknowledge by one step;--it is the comparison of facts and theirtransformation into ideas that lead to a deeper insight into thesignificance of Nature. Stringing words together in incoherentsuccession does not make an intelligible sentence; facts are the wordsof God, and we may heap them together endlessly, but they will teachus little or nothing till we place them in their true relations andrecognize the thought that binds them together as a consistent whole.

I have spoken of the plans that lie at the foundation of all thevariety of the Animal Kingdom as so many structural ideas which musthave had an intellectual existence in the Creative Conceptionindependently of any special material expression of them. Difficultthough it be to present these plans as pure abstract formulae, distinctfrom the animals that represent them, I would nevertheless attempt todo it, in order to show how the countless forms of animal life havebeen generalized into the few grand, but simple intellectualconceptions on which all the past populations of the earth as well asthe present creation are founded. In such attempts to divest thethought of its material expression, especially when that expression ismultiplied in such thousand-fold variety of form and color, ourfamiliarity with living animals is almost an obstacle to our success.For I shall hardly be able to allude to the formula of the Radiates,for instance,--the abstract idea that includes all the structuralpossibilities of that division of the Animal Kingdom,--withoutrecalling to my readers a Polyp or a Jelly-Fish, a Sea-Urchin or aStar-Fish. Neither can I present the structural elements of the Mollusk